


Finger On Your Trigger

by fortythousandth



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime)
Genre: Edging, F/F, Femdom, Orgasm Control, Sex Shop, Sex Toys, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortythousandth/pseuds/fortythousandth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Michiru thinks it would be a fun idea to go to a sex shop, Haruka is a ridiculous flustered dork, and, of course, Michiru is always right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finger On Your Trigger

**Author's Note:**

> NOT A SERIOUS FIC, PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. Okay, so I used to be a sexual health educator and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this. I dealt with Haruka types all of the time and it's always phenomenal to gently ease these people out of their shells, if they feel so inclined. Also: sex shop featured in here is a slight parody of real life sex shops, absolutely aware of that. A part of me was tempted to make it entirely sleazy but I sincerely doubt Michiru would ever allow herself to set foot in a sleazy sex shop, so. Also part of my personal headcanon is that Michiru is definitely the kinky one of these two and constantly suggesting ideas and Haruka's kneejerk reaction is always to freak out like NO WAY WILL WE EVER DO THAT and then of course Michiru convinces her to try and then Haruka gets off so hard every time and yet she STILL never quite learns. Also side note: this fic takes place obviously pretty early on in their physical relationship. I imagine, especially considering the sucesss of this particular excursion, that these two eventually amass a whole collection of toys, etc. This is just the story of their ridiculous first attempt. 
> 
> As always, heed the tags, and enjoy!

As of late, Haruka has been in an unreasonably amazing mood.

 

It’s a gorgeous weekday morning, with the sun filtering through the window and splaying golden rays of light into the room. Haruka’s sitting at the table with her mug of coffee and the sports section of the paper, taking the occasional break to sip from her mug and gaze at Michiru’s face, while Michiru is absorbed in her own section of the paper with her cup of tea.

 

The scene is strikingly domestic and quiet, the sort of thing that nowadays is liable to send Haruka spiraling off into daydreams of little houses and pet dogs. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she feels that she should probably be a bit alarmed about how dramatically and suddenly her life aspirations have shifted to ‘settle down with Michiru’ and ‘acquire an actually parentless child with Michiru’ and ‘basically just spend every waking moment forever with Michiru,’ but it’s warm, and Haruka’s still a bit sleepy, and she’s just so damn happy, so she’s perfectly content sitting at the table (with Michiru) and drifting.

 

That is, until Michiru puts her paper down and glances up. “Haruka, I’ve been thinking.”

 

This comment snaps Haruka to attention. The last time Michiru had “been thinking,” Haruka hadn’t been able to walk right for a full afternoon, and she still gets a little tingly remembering that particular escapade. “About what?” she asks.

 

“Well,” Michiru says. She pauses. “Have you ever,” she begins carefully, “thought about using something else? When we’re together?”

 

Haruka cocks her head to the side, trying to puzzle out what Michiru means. “What?”

 

Michiru sighs and comes right out with it. “There’s supposed to be a decent sex supply store in this town, and I’d like to go.”

 

It takes a few moments for the words to sink in. Obviously, Haruka knows the words, hears what Michiru’s saying, but the words aren’t quite stringing together in a way that makes sense, because it sounds like Michiru just said something about wanting to go to a sex shop of all places, and--that actually IS what Michiru said? “What?!” Haruka says again, her inflection decidedly more aghast.

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Michiru says, demeanor still surprisingly calm. “I’m sure we could find something interesting. It would be fun, Haruka.”

 

“Don’t you have to be a certain age to go to...places like that?” Haruka stammers.

 

“Perhaps,” Michiru says, “similar to the way that you have to be a certain age to rent an apartment. Or to drive a car.”

 

“It’s different,” Haruka mumbles, ducking her head.

 

“Oh?” Michiru raises an eyebrow.

 

Haruka harumphs and takes a sharp gulp of coffee. "We can't do it," she says.

 

"And why not?" Michiru asks.

 

Haruka starts about three different sentences, flailing her hands wildly, hoping that somewhere within the words and gestures that Michiru will magically discern meaning, like Michiru does so well. Michiru does not choose to use her powers of perception in this situation. Rather, she folds her arms and waits for Haruka to start digging her own grave. Finally, a terrifying thought occurs to Haruka, and that’s what makes it through to the surface for her to voice. “So are you saying you’re bored with me?” she asks, anxious, because it’s only been a few months and what if Michiru actually is bored with her, is she really that dull, what does that say about her?

 

But Michiru cuts in. “No!” she says, quickly and assuredly enough to appear, for all intents and purposes in Haruka’s eyes, honest about it. “It’s not at all an issue of boredom. Rather, it could just be a way for us to explore some new things.”

 

“New things,” Haruka says stiffly, saying the words in the same tone one might use to refer to an intensely reviled political leader.

 

“Yes, new things,” Michiru says. “Normally, Haruka, you don’t complain about my ideas.”

 

Haruka feels herself flush in spite of herself. “Fine,” she says, “but that’s different, too. Those...things we do are just you and me.”

 

Michiru laughs lightly, in that way she has that instantly lets Haruka know that she’s just said something ridiculous. “I’m not suggesting that we let another person into our bed, Haruka,” she says, “just that I think it would be fun. Can you consider it?”

 

Haruka blinks at her. “Michiru...”

 

Michiru gazes at Haruka. “For me”

 

Haruka swallows hard. “Well...”

* * *

 

Several hours later, to the surprise of absolutely nobody, Haruka finds herself standing in the middle of what is apparently the city’s premier sex shop.

 

She’s not quite sure what she was expecting. Exposed walls and pipes and sweat, with a couple of creepy mouthbreathers and maybe a sex dungeon in the back or something.

 

The place actually turns out to be dimly lit, adorned in shades of purple and red, and, as far as Haruka can tell, strangely clean. No, it’s not the shop that’s strange. It’s just...everything else.

 

Haruka palms the back of her neck. Her hair’s getting long, she realizes, and she really needs to find someone who’d be able to do a decent job cutting it. Soon. Maybe even after this, she thinks, let Michiru do whatever she needs to do here and then they could go have a nice _normal_ afternoon involving a haircut and lunch and maybe a walk along the beach or anything! Or, that is, anything that doesn’t involve being cooped up in a small basement store, staring at a display of what appears to be a pyramid of purple doughnuts, except these things are a lot more threatening and a lot less edible than the average doughnut.

 

Well, at least Haruka assumes they’re less edible.

 

She can feel a bead of sweat trickle down past her collar and she glances over at Michiru, hoping to find some kind of kindred panic in the face of her partner.

 

Of course, Michiru is doing fine. She's wearing her usual serene, confident expression, and even more than that, she looks highly _fascinated._

 

Haruka feels a stab of panic.

 

But before she can launch herself too deeply into a mounting spiral of nerves, someone--a clerk, judging by the solicitousness and the nametag--approaches. “Hello! Is there anything I can help you with?” she chirps.

 

 _NO,_ Haruka thinks to herself. Her instinct is to grab Michiru and bolt, because really, what kind of person would work at a place like this, and what kind of help would she assume they would need, it’s a SEX SHOP, isn’t that something they could probably figure out on their own?

 

“Yes,” Michiru says smoothly, using that talent of hers to blend in anywhere, everywhere, like she was born to be here, like going to a _sex shop_ is the most natural thing in the world and good god, Michi, Haruka thinks, it’s almost like she’s done this before or something. She wouldn’t have, would she? Without Haruka?

 

As Haruka distracts herself with this sudden and alarming new consideration, Michiru places her hand gently in the crook of Haruka’s arm like she can sense the wind senshi’s sudden urge to make like her element, and continues, “My partner and I would like to experiment with alternative forms of stimulation.”

 

Haruka nearly _dies,_ she’s about to pass out, ALTERNATIVE FORMS OF STIMULATION, who SAYS that? Haruka can't look at the clerk. She just can’t. She averts her gaze, staring above Michiru’s head, eyes landing on an assortment of oddly shaped colorful objects. She has no idea what they are and for a brief moment forgets where she is, reading the display below…

 

OH GOD.

 

Good GOD.

 

Those are for...that? Who would put one of those _there_? It looks like a fluorescent wrench. A fluorescent wrench covered in plastic feathers. Who in the world would ever EVER want to put a fluorescent wrench up their--

 

“Haruka?” Michiru elbows her in the side, but she’s still entranced. And horrified. Below is a display for accompanying flavored lubrication, which might even be the most worrying part of the whole shindig. Who would want to LICK a fluorescent wrench after it had been up somebody’s--

 

“Haruka,” Michiru says again, firmly this time, yanking on the crook of Haruka’s arm. “Excuse us, please,” she says to the clerk, “I believe we have some things we might need to discuss.”

 

“Absolutely. Take your time,” the clerk says, and with that, Michiru drags Haruka towards to back of the store.

 

A red curtain separates the store and the dressing rooms (dressing in what? Haruka wonders). As soon as they cross the threshold, Michiru turns and gives Haruka the filthiest, most aggressive kiss she's received in ages. Or at least the past three hours or so.

 

Wandering hands. Tongue. Haruka’s back hitting the wall with a thump and squeak and Michiru all over her.

 

When Michiru finally pulls back, she eyes Haruka, Haruka shaky and flushed and staring, and nods. "Good. Now you're uncomfortably aroused and curious, which is precisely an appropriate mindset for this situation. Let’s account for all of your concerns, shall we?” Without giving Haruka a chance to respond, Michiru begins ticking things off on her fingers. “We haven’t seen anyone we know at all and even if we do, we have ammunition because in order to gossip they'll have to say they were here too. Further, we’re so far away from home, and it seems massively unlikely that anyone who knows either of us would find themselves here at this moment, at this place. So what is there for you to still be worried about?”

 

Haruka gapes, lips still tingling. That was some heavy artillery. At any rate, though, Michiru is making a lot of fantastic points and Haruka knows that she really doesn’t have any rebuttals.

 

“So?” Michiru says. “Are you still concerned?”

 

Haruka sighs. “I…”

 

Before she can say anything, they hear footsteps outside, and freeze. “Are you two doing...all right in there?” The clerk asks.

 

“We’re fine,” Michiru calls. “Give us one minute.”

 

“One minute?” The clerk sounds, if anything, a bit impressed. Before Haruka can dwell too much on the implications, Michiru gently rests her hand on Haruka’s chest.

 

“Haruka.” She looks up. “This is making you very uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Michiru asks quietly.

 

“No,” Haruka says, because now they’re here, and she said she’d do it, and it’s for Michiru, after all, and she can (probably?) survive like, what, ten minutes in here for Michiru?

 

Michiru raises one perfectly tended skeptical eyebrow. “If it’s really that bad, we can leave.”

 

“We don’t need to leave.”

 

“And if we don’t leave, will you be able to be an active participant? Will you actually shop with me?”

 

“I...okay,” Haruka sighs. How hard can it be?

 

She’s rewarded by one of Michiru’s dazzling smiles, and is instantly warmed. Michiru leans against Haruka, whispering in her ear, “Later, when were alone, I'll more than continue this." To punctuate it, she moves her hand down to right above Haruka’s belt buckle. “But for now, shall we?”

 

She tugs Haruka out of the dressing room and leads her over a more innocuous set of counters, waving off the clerk’s offer of assistance this time. “We can start slowly,” Michiru says. Gesturing toward the wall, her eyes light up. “Did you know,” she says, “that vibrators were originally created to help women cope with extreme symptoms of menstruation?”

 

“Fascinating,” Haruka mumbles, still ogling the display. Then what Michiru just said sinks in. She’s about to ask how Michiru even knew that, but then again, Haruka’s pretty convinced that Michiru knows everything, so it’s a moot point. She turns then balks when she sees what Michiru’s holding in her hands. “What…” is all she can say.

 

“Starting slowly,” Michiru repeats. “How about something like this? It’s very simple, really. And you can…” Michiru flicks it on, and all of a sudden it’s buzzing in her hand.

 

Haruka jumps. “What are you doing?!”

 

“You need to test it first, Haruka,” Michiru says dryly.

 

Haruka bites her lip and stares. This is strange. Incredibly strange.

 

Michiru does something else and then the vibrator’s steady hum is disrupted, turning instead to a series of small pulsing noises. Haruka slaps a hand over her eyes. “Oh my god.”

 

“Haruka, it’s just a vibrator! Haven’t you ever...used...” Michiru trails off. “I see.”

 

“You have?!” Haruka screeches.

 

Michiru places a comforting hand on Haruka’s shoulder, blushing in just the slightest. “Really, it’s not the scandal you’re envisioning.”

 

“I am not envisioning anything,” Haruka says, already alarmingly, yet not unpleasantly, deep into a very detailed vision of Michiru plus the aqua accoutrement spread out invitingly in Michiru’s hand. She shakes her head hard in an attempt at clarity. “You never told me.”

 

Michiru frowns. “Haruka, you know just how long I wanted to be with you before this opportunity. You can’t tell me you’re surprised that I used to manage my stress and tension by--”

 

Haruka cuts her off. “N-no, that part makes sense,” she says. “I know that it’s normal, I, it’s not like I don’t”--unable to quite say it, she flails her hand in the approximate area of her groin--”you know.”

 

“Oh, I’m already well aware of that,” Michiru says matter of factly.

 

Haruka’s jaw drops. “ _What?”_ she whisper-screams.

 

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are. Now, if you’ll look over at these ones…”

 

Haruka plops onto a nearby bench and buries her head in her hands.

 

There’s a significant pause before Michiru delicately settles her weight next to Haruka. “Perhaps,” she says, “this wasn’t a good idea.”

 

Haruka peeks up through her fingers. “Huh?”

 

Michiru delicately crosses a leg over her knee and leans into Haruka’s shoulder. A bit dumbfounded by Michiru’s sudden change in attitude, Haruka tentatively places her arm around Michiru, who responds by snuggling even further into Haruka’s embrace. “Be honest with me, Haruka,” she says. “Do you actually want to do this?”

 

“Well…” Haruka considers. Now that she’s past her initial knee-jerk freakout...fine, it’s not so bad. It’s new for her, definitely, and embarrassing, but she can’t help but feel as if she’s gotten in a bit too deep to stop now. She takes a deep breath. “I’m okay. Let’s--”

 

“Good,” Michiru says, cutting her off. She rests her fingertips on Haruka’s leg, just above the knee. “Because,” she continues, pitching her voice down to nearly a whisper, “you wouldn’t know this yet, but these toys can do truly amazing things, Haruka.”

 

“A-amazing?” Haruka croaks, eyes glued to Michiru’s hand. On top of everything else, the store suddenly feels much hotter.

 

“It’s a completely different type of intensity,” Michiru breathes. “It’s hard to focus, hard to even think…”

 

Haruka shoots upright. “Let’s go,” she says.

 

Back at the counters, Michiru picks up a toy. “What about--”

 

“Too much glitter,” Haruka declares.

 

Michiru goes for another, but Haruka shakes her head. “How does that even work?”

 

Michiru says nothing in response, merely setting the toy down and plucking up another. “This?”

 

Haruka stares at it for a solid five seconds. “There is no way we can use that.”

 

“Is there a particular reason why not?”

 

“Because that,” Haruka manages finally, “is the Spiral Heart Moon Rod.”

 

Michiru tilts her head and gives it a long look. “You have a point,” she says. “But it does bring a whole new meaning to ‘love and justice,’ no?”

 

Haruka winces. “Do you really have to--”

 

Michiru sends Haruka a gentle hipcheck, twirling the toy in her hand. “In the name of the moon--”

 

Haruka actually plucks the toy out of Michiru’s hands herself to reshelve it. “We do NOT need Sailor Moon involved in our sex life.”

 

“All right.” Michiru pouts. “Although, that’s not what you said--”

 

“You promised,” Haruka says through clenched teeth, “that we would never speak of that again.”

 

The characteristic little half-smile is back on Michiru’s face. “I suppose, yes. But capes are a very good look for you, Haruka.”

 

“ _Michiru!”_

 

* * *

 

Contrary to expectations, several shelves and failed examples later, Haruka actually finds herself interested in one of the toys. The lucky gadget that finally catches Haruka’s attention is a nice cerulean shade--a decent middle ground between aqua and navy, she notes. It’s not too obtrusive, either. There are no beads, strings, or strange bangles dangling off the sides. It doesn’t seem to feature any abnormal protrusions or decals. And, perhaps most importantly, with its simple cylindrical shape, it seems all too clear just how it’s used--which, as Haruka has rapidly learned, is an underrated quality amongst the goods available in the average sex supply shop.

 

“What about this one?” she asks.

 

Michiru comes over and takes it in her hands. She nods, almost weighing it. “It would be a good start. And--” With a flick of her thumb, the toy comes alive in her hands, and Haruka does her best not to jump. “Four settings,” Michiru says, flipping through each of them. “Variety is underrated.”

 

“Well?” Haruka says.

 

Michiru grins. “Do we have a winner?”

 

Haruka’s already nudging Michiru in the direction of the cash register. “Let’s go,” she says.

 

“My,” Michiru says, “someone’s eager.”

 

“But really,” Haruka replies, “let’s _go._ ”

* * *

 

The trip back is quick, aided, no doubt, by some select words murmured into Haruka’s ear that cause her to maaaaybe push the limits on a few speeding laws. Just a bit.

 

But by the time they’re inside, even Haruka just wants to _start_ something. She’s on Michiru almost as soon as they get inside and Michiru’s pushing back, sliding her body up against Haruka’s and maneuvering them to the bedroom.

 

“Unzip me,” Michiru gasps,, lifting her hair to expose her neck and the zipper of her dress, and this, it’s times like these when Haruka’s well aware that she’s the luckiest person on the planet. Her fingers linger on the softness of Michiru’s shoulders before she moves to slide the zipper down, exposing an expanse of smooth, creamy skin.

 

Michiru’s stepping out of her dress and casting that coy smile over her shoulder and it’s just…

Michiru is so gorgeous, so beautiful, that sometimes Haruka can’t believe that she’s actually, really with her, that she’s the one who gets to be with Michiru. Haruka knows next to nothing about lingerie, but what she does know is that Michiru’s in black lace, hugging her gentle curves. The sight of her almost makes Haruka’s mouth go dry, still, probably always will, to some degree.

 

Haruka's staring and not even trying to hide it. Michiru pushes her down on the bed. "You have no idea," she purrs, "how long I've been waiting for you to let me do this to you."

 

This manages to cut through the considerable fog of lust mounting in Haruka’s mind. "You do this to me?" Haruka asks.

 

"Raise your hips." Haruka does and Michiru tugs her pants off. "And yes." Michiru's grin takes on a devilish tinge, and she climbs on the bed, straddling Haruka. She leans over and kisses Haruka again, hands slipping down to work at the buttons of Haruka's shirt. “I think it’s going to be a good night.”

 

Haruka grabs Michiru, pulls her back in for a long, smoldering moment. “I can’t wait to watch you come,” she breathes in Michiru’s ear.

 

Michiru, in response, lets out a soft laugh. This is, Haruka thinks, not an appropriate reaction. “What?” she asks, feeling the slightest bit self-conscious.

 

“Haruka,” Michiru says. She grabs the new toy from off the bed. “I think you may have a fundamental misunderstanding.”

 

Haruka’s gaze flickers from the vibrator in Michiru’s hand to Michiru’s eyes. “W-what?” she stammers.

Michiru slowly brushes her thumb along the length of the vibrator, taking her time to caress it, and Haruka, somehow, inexplicably feels herself twitch at the sight.

 

“You see,” Michiru says, “the point of this isn’t because I’m bored with you, or because we’re not enough for each other. The point is that it’s something different. It’s a way to open up sensations that are impossible for any human to be able to replicate.”

 

Haruka blinks. “You’re going to--on _me_?”

 

Michiru slips her hand between them, past Haruka’s boxers, and traces her way to Haruka’s clit. Haruka gasps, can’t stop herself, as soon as Michiru hits it. And then Michiru leans in close to Haruka, her breath ghosting across Haruka’s ear in that way that she KNOWS Haruka can’t resist, and she starts _talking_. “You have no idea what this will feel like, especially considering just how sensitive we both know you are,” Michiru whispers, still touching Haruka.

 

Haruka swallows hard. “What do you want me to do?” she murmurs.

 

Michiru smiles. “Don’t come until I tell you to.”

 

Haruka's eyes widen; the next thing she knows, she’s on her back, head spinning, Michiru straddling her. “You know,” Michiru says, almost lazily, for sure alluringly, “This has four settings. I’m going to take you through all of them. And by the time I let you get to four, you won’t even be able to remember your name.”

 

Haruka shivers, her whole body pulsing with sudden, sharp need. Whenever Michiru gets like this, Haruka has absolutely no hope of resisting; Michiru, in just her scant lingerie, calmly, confidently telling Haruka--promising Haruka, honestly--all of these things.

 

Haruka is never going to let Michiru down.

 

Haruka is never going to deny Michiru.

 

And after everything they’ve seen together in the course of their partnership, in their lives, if Haruka’s learned one thing, it’s that Michiru is never going to let anything bad happen to her.

 

So she looks into Michiru’s deep blue eyes, even deeper than any ocean Haruka’s ever seen. She allows herself to take a deep breath, putting herself entirely in Michiru’s hands: “Okay.”

 

Michiru kisses Haruka’s cheek. “Good.”

 

And then Michiru flicks the vibrator on.

 

Haruka has never heard that noise come out of her mouth. She hadn’t even known she was capable of that noise.

 

But... _holy god._

 

It’s like a small explosion between her legs. Everything she normally feels happens about one hundred times quicker than usual, and even though Haruka, admittedly, tends to be fairly easy, this is ridiculous even for her.

 

She’s shaking, and she can’t really focus on anything except the sensation, and it’s building already, that quivering in her stomach that means only one thing.

 

“Haruka,” Michiru says sharply, “look at me.”

 

Haruka tries, she really does, but it just feels so good, and the sensations are overwhelming, and she really hasn’t ever felt anything like this and maybe if she could just arc her hips up the slightest bit more, she could--

 

She gasps as Michiru threads her fingers through her hair and tugs up, hard. It’s sharp, sudden pain, cutting through the heat swirling through her body. But at this point, it just makes everything worse, or better.

 

And that’s when Michiru moves the vibrator away.

 

Haruka can’t help but moan at the loss of the feeling. Michiru curls her hand deeper in Haruka’s hair and draws her head up, leaning in so they’re face to face. “You’re close already, aren’t you?” Michiru asks, eyes sparkling. “This is going to be fun.”

 

“Michiru,” Haruka manages, squirming, “I don’t know if I--”

 

Michiru leans in and kisses her, fiercely, possessively, the sort of kiss that makes Haruka sink back into the mattress and close her eyes and just let Michiru have her. Her hair, loose, falls over them like a curtain, enveloping them in the slight scent of saltwater and paint and something else uniquely Michiru. “What did I say earlier?” Michiru says when she finally pulls back.

 

Haruka blinks, trying to center herself. “You said I wasn’t...supposed to come.”

 

"Until when?"

 

"Until you say so," Haruka murmurs.

 

“You _will_ listen,” Michiru says. There’s this dark light in her eyes, this thrill that she occasionally shows, and it’s enough to set Haruka throbbing all over again, just the way that Michiru is looking at her, Michiru, who’s practically a goddess on Earth, here, with her, above her, utterly…

 

Michiru takes the vibrator and traces it across Haruka’s abdomen. The vibrations send little aftershocks through her body, enough to keep her on edge, but painfully far away from providing any real relief of any sort. “What are you doing?” Haruka whines, well aware that she’s whining, but not particularly able to do anything about it.

 

The noise intensifies, and Haruka understands when Michiru dips her hand back down again. “Setting two,” she says.

 

Haruka doesn’t cry out this time, but she thrashes and shivers and digs her fingernails into Michiru’s shoulder. “Careful,” Michiru murmurs.

 

Haruka needs it closer, needs Michiru closer, needs it pressing against her firmer because it’s the worst tease in the world to have it right there but just not doing what she needs, and she grabs just a little tighter onto Michiru’s shoulder.

 

With well-honed reflexes, Michiru’s hand shoots out and grabs Haruka’s, slamming it down against the mattress. “Don’t,” she says, tightening her fingers around Haruka’s wrist just enough to make it ache. “Don’t distract me, and don’t think that touching me is going to get me to go any faster.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Haruka gulps, rolls her hips. “I just--”

 

“Just wanted me to give in?” Michiru shifts the tiniest bit, and Haruka can swear that she presses the vibrator up just a tiny bit harder. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t draw it out even longer.”

 

Haruka’s sweating now, her thighs trembling. Nobody on the planet would be able to get her to do this except for Michiru. Make that nobody in the whole damn solar system. Right now, she can feel that she’s getting close--it’s inevitable, because the vibrations, _damn_ , there’s no way for her to really resist it, but here she is and she’s fighting it, because Michiru thinks she can, because Michiru believes she can do it.

 

“I can keep going,” Haruka murmurs, not quite able to squash the tremor out of her voice.

 

Michiru smiles down at her--not a smug smile, not her half-smile, but a genuine smile. “I know you can,” she says. “You’re trying so hard for me. I see it, Haruka.”

 

Haruka attempts a slow, measured exhale, even as her stomach is twitching and her body’s tightening and it’s all she can do to keep talking. “I think you were right,” she murmurs.

 

Michiru raises her eyebrows. “What was that?”

 

“I think you were right!” Haruka repeats. “This is…”

 

“Good, isn’t it?” Michiru says. “I knew that you would look so good spread out beneath me like this. I knew that you’d look so good fighting to stay in control. It’s getting difficult, isn’t it?”

 

Haruka bites her lip, Michiru’s words going straight to her clit, but she doesn’t trust herself to say anything.

 

Michiru goes on. “It must be difficult; I can tell from the way you’re looking at me right now. Tell me, Haruka,” she says, tracing a finger down Haruka’s jawline, “just how much do you want it right now?”

 

“Michi,” Haruka says instead, her voice trembling, about to hit her point of no return. And Michiru pulls the vibrator away again and Haruka instantly regrets saying anything because it feels like, without it, the world’s suddenly crashing down around her. She’s starting to lose her grip on herself, slowly but surely, and she’s fraying at the edges, her stomach twisted into coiled jittery knots. She seizes the opportunity for several slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. But her body’s been through enough, it seems, because her heartrate’s refusing to slow, her body just won’t stop with these twitches, and her clit is throbbing, tingling, driving her insane, and she has half a mind to reach down and just do something about it herself, because it’s clear that Michiru won’t anytime soon…

 

Michiru switches the vibrator up one more level, hardly giving Haruka any time to recover, and slides it against Haruka. “Are you up for a challenge, Haruka?” she asks.

 

Haruka can’t hold back a yelp as it hits her. She’s already so close, her mind’s already halfway blown, that this setting is so intense that it’s hard to handle, she’s almost twitching her hips away because it’s just too extreme. But it takes barely any time, at least in Haruka’s mind, before her body’s adjusting and the same dull tingle is setting in, already.

 

She’s trying to fight it. She’s trying and it’s a desperately losing game. Haruka bites her lip so hard she’s surprised she doesn’t taste any blood and groans, trying to hang on, trying to hold back, with everything she has.

 

Michiru grins. “Don’t,” she purrs. “Don’t you dare. You’re about to, though, aren’t you? You could in a second, if I would just let you.”

 

“Michiru,” Haruka says, voice ragged, on the edge of tears, her whole body trembling, “you have to…”

“Can you ask nicely?” Michiru says.

 

The sensations are overwhelming, and Haruka throws her head back against the pillow, gritting her teeth, bearing down with everything she has to not give in. She’s focusing, doing everything she can to just not come, to hold out, to prove that she’s strong enough, and the words get caught in her throat.

Which is when Michiru moves the vibrator away.

 

Haruka nearly chokes, desperate with want. She digs her heels into the mattress to get some sort of purchase and pushes her hips up but _nothing’s there_. It’s so empty, so maddening, and she can’t stand it anymore, she can’t keep it up. She feels something in herself break. And then it doesn’t matter anymore, being strong doesn’t matter, and she can’t make it matter, and then she’s doing it, giving Michiru what she wants, begging Michiru to just let her., “Please, Michiru, please let me, please, I can’t, please…” She’s wracked with a sudden full-body shudder and closes her eyes, whimpering, leaving herself fully, truly, at Michiru’s mercy.

 

Dimly, Haruka registers Michiru carding a hand through her hair and placing a delicate kiss on her cheek. “I love seeing you like this,” Michiru murmurs, “I love having you like this, I love the way you sound when you ask me. I love how you know that you’re mine.”

 

With that, she switches the vibrator up to setting four.

 

Haruka sees stars and she still hasn't even gotten off yet. But the wave is mounting and she grabs on to Michiru, even though she knows she’s not supposed to, something, anything to ground her, because it's so intense, so much, almost too much.

 

And Michiru leans in. "Fourth setting," she breathes, "and you've done so well. Come for me, Haruka."

For a brief moment, Haruka’s suspended, in a half-conscious dreamy state of agony, not quite sure if she’s heard Michiru correctly, but then it sinks in, and her body takes over.

 

It starts at the base of her spine and spreads, electric, little rushing currents outward, overtaking her. It’s the buildup, the rising, rushing sensation, but then finally she crests, finally Michiru lets her crest, and then--

 

It slams into Haruka, pulsing, throbbing, fast. Maybe she cries out. Maybe she bucks her hips, maybe she holds onto Michiru to ride it out, maybe, but she doesn’t know because she is _gone._

 

It's the best orgasm in her recent memory. And it's completely wiped her out.  Haruka's boneless and warm and almost floaty, so far on her afterglow that she barely feels Michiru snuggle up against her chest. "Satisfactory, then?" Michiru murmurs.

 

And...Michiru.

 

Even though she’s just had her mind absolutely blown, Haruka can’t waste time, not with Michiru. Michiru’s looking patient, sure, but Haruka knows by now that nothing gets Michiru off like topping Haruka like this. Haruka knows that she’s sweating and flushed and that her hair is everywhere. Her muscles are still twitching and shaking. She’s still breathing hard. And with Michiru pressed flush against her, still, she still manages a sudden rush of heat, a sudden jolt, just at the thought of watching Michiru, just considering how Michiru would look, if she experienced even a hint of what Haruka has just had.

 

And not to mention, there’s the idea of delivering Michiru the comeuppance she deserves.

 

In a fluid motion, Haruka flips their position. Savoring Michiru’s little intake of breath, Haruka uses one hand to pin both of Michiru’s wrists to the mattress, and the other to work her way between Michiru’s legs, finding her hot and slick and wet, absolutely drenched.

 

Michiru squirms beneath her, against her grip. “ _Haruka_ …”

 

Sometimes, when they’re together, Michiru just takes over. Out of nowhere, Haruka will find herself on her back with Michiru hovering over her, completely in control, like she'd always been in control, like there'd never been a time in which she hadn't.

 

But if Haruka really wants to, in civilian form, at least, she'll always win. Michiru is deceptively strong, but Haruka is an ex-judo champion with a significant height and weight advantage and Haruka, if necessary, can just _overpower_ her.

 

Michiru, Haruka can feel, is close to giving herself freely this time.

 

Haruka wants to overpower her just the same.

 

She grabs the vibrator up from the bed, where Michiru, startled, had let it fall. “Four settings,” she repeats, slowly, tantalizingly, stroking the tip up Michiru’s core, “and by the time we get to four, you won’t even remember your name.”

 

“You learn quickly,” Michiru says, visibly fighting to keep her composure. But then Haruka casually flicks the vibrator onto the first setting. Michiru bites her lip and shivers, obviously well-conditioned to the sound. Haruka gently traces it up Michiru’s thigh, so close but not quite touching, and Michiru twitches, practically writhes, beneath her. “Are you going to use it?” Michiru forces out, a little tremulous undercurrent in her voice that Haruka loves rising closer and closer to the surface.

 

"Are you in a position to ask for favors right now?" Haruka responds instead. But she can't hold off that long, and Michiru gets what she wants: the vibrator hits Michiru's clit and the _noise_ she makes is probably going to feature in Haruka's dreams for about the next decade.

 

Haruka teases, presses the vibrator down, and can't hold back a grin.

 

Michiru always did have the best ideas.


End file.
